


reason to wake

by ninemoons42



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Thoughts, Dreaming of Canon, Dreams, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sleep Groping, That turns into smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 01:14:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17478494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: But maybe it’s okay to drift for a little while longer if Noctis is here, and sleeping, warm and protectively curled around him.





	reason to wake

**Author's Note:**

> Smuturday fic, yay!

It’s -- it’s maybe a good dream, he thinks, because he recognizes the giant bird-like thing that trots up to him and -- sort of pushes its nose, its beak, huffing and puffing little amused hopeful noises into the pockets of his trousers, the heavy leather vest he’s wearing, maybe looking for food because this isn’t the kind of dream where the thing’s looking to tear him apart. It’s a dream where he’s warm and he’s standing in a soft breeze and -- oh would you look at that, the big pile of feathers has found a bundle of green leaves next to his feet. Happy noises, the crunch of crisp stems, the creature eating neatly and steadily and occasionally warbling at him, making sweet sounds that he thinks might be _kweh?_

For some reason he knows he can’t linger because any moment now a gorgeous Audi R8 is going to pull up, and he’s going to have to leave the nice bird-thing behind, and he’ll have to get in the car and drive away with a bunch of other people -- but at the same time, outside these dreams, he knows he’s starting to feel uneasy again, because -- why can’t he remember the faces of the other guys in the car? Why would it be so easy to just get into the shotgun seat, and argue about radio stations, and go?

He wants to stay in this dream, and maybe put his arms around the bird’s neck as soon as it finishes eating, so he can hug it -- and he also wants to wake up before he can get in the car because pretty as it is, he knows in his very bones that it’s heading toward some kind of dark days -- 

Blink. Blink.

The blue sky is gone. The bird is gone. The purr of the engine that had been making the ground beneath his feet rumble with its approach is gone, and in its place he hears the dull roar of the rain -- and maybe it’s not a comfort at all, because if he’s still hearing that exact same roar, then has he slept at all? Has time actually passed, or has it passed him by, or -- ?

He tries to move and find his phone, to read the clock that’s large enough for him to read the numbers off of even when he’s not wearing his glasses -- but he can’t move.

Strangely, he calms.

Because the weight that’s clinging to him is warm, and it’s breathing in a long steady rhythm, and he knows the arm draped over his torso, and the feet hooked around his lower leg, almost as well as he knows himself. 

Mutter, mutter, from behind him, and a soft smacking sound that’s only a little bit muffled in his hair, and he lets himself smile. Lets himself give up the search for his phone -- although he does still kind of want to check the time. 

But maybe it’s okay to drift for a little while longer if Noctis is here, and sleeping, warm and protectively curled around him and he closes his eyes, but doesn’t sleep -- he doesn’t dream, anyway, and for a moment he misses the big bird something fierce -- 

“Prompto.”

Noctis, sleep-talking -- calling his name in his sleep -- 

Like he’s been commanded, he grabs Noctis’s hand where it’s loosely open against his belly. Brings it up to his mouth and he presses tender, soft kisses to those ink-stained knuckles. What in the world has Noct been doing again, he wonders; what has he been working on, this time, or what has he been up to, during his long days and nights of interning at his own father’s business offices -- 

Lately he’s been waking up to the sudden presence of Noctis in his bed, and there’re a few reasons for that, and he’s only a little sad that he doesn’t really get to experience the pleasure of -- meeting up in the subway, on a specific platform in a specific station, so they can get back here to this place. Or looking up from dinner preparations, or his own freelancing work, to Noctis smirking warm and sweet in the doorway as he takes off his shoes. Or even running out the door to meet Noctis in some quiet tucked-away haven of a restaurant for an entirely unplanned date.

Noctis is busy, now, coming to him at all hours -- and he’s getting busy too, with all these holiday events still coming up, and so he kind of wants to stay awake and just float, safe in this bed, with Noctis more or less his living blanket, or all the best pillows in the world (even if Noctis is mostly bony and wiry, and there are still a few days when they wake up with bruises of the accidentally-elbowed-or-kneed-each-other kind, and not bruises like hickeys).

He kisses Noctis’s hand again -- the palm this time, and the base of his thumb, before letting him go -- and he thinks he’d like to try and go back to sleep -- he thinks he’s halfway there, when Noctis mutters again, and this time he moves, too.

So Prompto catches his yawn in his hand -- looks down, not really trying to understand anything -- 

And again he blinks.

Noctis’s arms are wrapping more closely around him, more tightly, and when they both stop moving he’s pinned full-length against Noctis’s body. The entire length of his back, pressed against Noctis’s front, from the shoulders on down and -- 

Heat stirs slow and certain in his nerves because of course Noctis is hard: and if he didn’t know any better, if he couldn’t actually feel the steady whistle of Noctis’s unconscious breaths, he’d be tempted to think that Noctis was grinding into him.

Not that he’s against the idea -- they’ve sort of talked about this, not in entirely explicit terms because they can’t actually get through the conversation without either blushing themselves into tongue-tied silence, or simply jumping each other’s bones right there and then -- 

Which, all right, it makes sense to test that bit out -- see if he’s actually awake -- and so he grabs Noctis’s wrist and shakes it, hard. “Noct.”

No response.

He raises his voice just a little -- still a whisper, but closer to his own speaking voice now: “Noctis?”

Mutter, no real words that he can make out, but that’s not the important thing.

The important thing is that Noctis’s arms tighten around him again, and this time Noctis’s feet slide down to his ankle, and -- Noctis rocks his hips against him, once, twice, before he goes still again. Back to sleep without even knowing what he’s just been doing.

Not fair, not fair, is the thought running around in circles in Prompto’s mind. 

It’s really going to be impossible to go back to sleep -- or even do anything else -- if Noctis is winding him up like this. Accident or not.

Already he’s wide awake because of the heat he can feel, flaring up in his cheeks, slowly expanding down his neck, down to his shoulders. Already he’s biting his lip and thinking about -- himself on his knees in the shower, because he’d followed Noctis in, in the dead middle of the night because he’d come back so late. The pretty, pleased pink of Noctis’s mouth, hanging open, as Prompto’d given him a slow messy blowjob, with the shower water trickling into coolness down his bare back, down his bare shoulders.

He’s thinking about -- Noctis on his hands and knees, and the muscles standing out in relief all along his back, as he ground back onto Prompto’s cock, as Prompto’d fucked him hard and slow and deep, out of sync with the bass-beat booming from some kind of party in the neighborhood.

He’s thinking about Noctis pushing his legs up and out so Prompto’s knees were pretty much touching the sides of his head. Noctis’s tongue pushing into him, Noctis eating him out and doing such a damn good job of teasing him and teasing him, making him come practically untouched.

So, okay, Noctis might have started this, this thing right now, but Prompto’s guilty too, and he covers his face with his hands and -- maybe he can get off and get back to sleep now -- 

But before he can try to pull his shorts down there’s a slow whisper in his ear, sweetly slurred: “Hi. Can I?”

“Yes but I was trying to wake you up,” he hisses, though there’s maybe no real reason to keep their voices down.

“I think I felt you. But I couldn’t really wake up immediately. Sorry.”

“You’ll be sorry if you don’t finish what you started.”

Soft chuckle against the back of his neck. “Yeah? I heard you moaning just now. Wasn’t doing anything.”

“You started it,” he says again, accusing, teasing, and then the next thought unravels clear out of his head because Noctis is reaching into his shorts, past his briefs. Sleep-hot fingertips pressing circles into the crease of his thigh -- the complete opposite of relaxing because Noctis is so close to where he really needs to be touched _right now --_

“But it’s fun to tease you,” he hears Noctis say.

“Fuck you,” he hisses.

“I thought that was the idea.”

He’s about to -- bat Noctis’s hand away -- he never even begins the movement because Noctis is taking him in hand and oh god he feels his own heartbeat thundering in his ears -- 

“Hmm,” pleased sound and then that’s followed by -- open mouth against the back of his neck, swipe of hot wet tongue --

“Please,” Prompto hears himself beg.

And Noctis’s hand on him moves, long slow stroke from root to tip. Fingertips gathering up the wetness at the tip of his cock and smoothing it down and the next stroke is better, and the next, and the next -- he presses back helplessly into Noctis’s body, Noctis’s cock throbbing against his ass.

Forward he rocks into Noctis’s grip; backward he rocks into Noctis’ cock and the thrust of Noctis’s hips.

“You,” he begins.

As if he’d gotten an entire sentence out, Noctis bites softly at the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, and says, “I like getting you off like this. You’re burning up you know that?”

“Wanna, wanna be with you,” and it’s so difficult to get the words out. His world’s narrowed down, his focus is completely shot and every nerve in his body is aching and spiking, and still Noctis strokes him hard and steady. 

“Tell me, Prompto, talk to me.”

“C-can’t, can’t last,” he says through gritted teeth.

“I know. Show me,” and Noctis rolls his hips as he talks right into Prompto’s ear.

The pressure is building in his nerves, in the very back of his brain, twisting and twisting with every stroke of Noctis’s hand, every thrust of Noctis’s body against his, and he’s trapped and willing and helpless and -- it hits him hard and good and he buckles, silently, comes wide-eyed and struggling for breath.

He knows he’s out of it, and he knows that’s not for long, but at least he’s been cleaned up by the time he turns around to press punch-drunk kisses to Noctis’s mouth. “You?”

And the Noctis that had been so hotly demanding just a moment ago says, sweet and almost hesitant: “However you wanna.”

So he lies back down on his side -- facing Noctis, this time -- and he says, “Can I watch you?”

Flash of laughter in Noctis’s eyes -- but he does as Prompto asks, skinning out of his pajamas.

Prompto thinks Noctis is pretty, when he’s working himself over, fast strokes up and down his cock and every now and then a sort of twisting flick of his wrist on the upstroke -- how he holds out for as long as he does, Prompto has no idea -- but Noctis nearly flies up off the bed when he finishes, soft shout hanging in the spaces between them.

After they’re done with cleanup Noctis murmurs to him, between languid kisses, “You think you can go back to sleep?”

“If you stay,” he says.

“That was the plan,” he hears Noctis say.

One more kiss, or maybe two, and he pulls Noctis close, or maybe it’s Noctis who’s clinging to him, all the way back down, into the country of dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on Tumblr at my FFXV sideblog [@ninemoons42-lestallumhaven](http://ninemoons42-lestallumhaven.tumblr.com/) or at my main [@ninemoons42](http://ninemoons42.tumblr.com/) \-- or, hey, if Tumblr becomes too rotten and we can't talk there any more, there's always Twitter, where I am @ninemoons42.


End file.
